


That Same Disease

by Fossarian



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dominance, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mild Painplay, Sexual Content, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fossarian/pseuds/Fossarian
Summary: The more he learns about Kylo, the less he thinks he should. But he can't seem to stop.





	That Same Disease

At first, Hux senses nothing. He will berate himself for missing what (later) he will realize are glaring signs. It’s not like Kylo Ren is subtle.

But Hux is stupid about him. Like everyone else he is distracted by the lethal thrill of Kylo’s presence, the way death and a frightening vitality live in uneasy harmony within the same man. And they are both soldiers of the same fortune, so it doesn’t seem so strange to Hux. At first.

“I like when you go hard,” Kylo says. The first and only time he volunteers any feedback.

Hux is still recovering from his orgasm and somewhat dazed by Kylo’s ability to formulate cogent sentences so rapidly after coming. He blinks bleary-eyed at Kylo in the dark, his nerves still shivering with the last rush of endorphins. Kylo’s already sitting up and pushing him off, so Hux doesn’t even have the chance to figure out what that expression on his face means.

“Oh, okay,” he says. He watches Kylo go into the bathroom, the muscles tense in his back. Remembers thinking, _What the fuck?_

And that’s the first clue he ignores.

It’s not the words themselves that are odd. He’s been with a man or girl who liked a darker excitement, who enjoyed the rigid protocols of the First Order in a more than strictly professional sense. Hux has been in a military of one kind or another since his youth and he’s not unaware of this appeal to certain people.

So, it’s not that. He’s still trying to reconcile his morals with an attraction for a man who is as unstable as a live wire. It’s not really a question of what’s wrong with all of this, it’s what’s not. So why he’s alarmed by _anything_ that comes out of Kylo Ren’s mouth is the real mystery.

Doesn’t stop him from trying to figure it out.

They never plan to meet. It just happens. Or so Hux assumes the sequence of events goes in Kylo’s mind. It irritates Hux, not because he _wants_ any kind of permanent relationship with Ren, but he would like some predictability. He likes a schedule.

Kylo just shows up at his door like a stray. Probably plans this about thirty seconds ahead of actually doing it, like everything else in his life.

Fine, whatever. Hux hasn’t exactly encouraged a change in behavior. He can, after all, shut the door.

“I was going to sleep,” Hux says, mostly for form’s sake.

“You don’t want me here, then?” Kylo says with this weirdly aggressive head tilt that always sets Hux’s teeth on edge. It’s alien-esque, makes him seem not quite right. Which, Hux supposes, is factually accurate.

Of course this never changes the outcome of these impromptu visits.

“Just get in here before someone sees,” Hux says.

Kylo is bundled up like a monastic nun as usual. You’d think he had something to hide, when it’s quite the opposite.

Hux reaches for him and hooks one finger beneath the high-wrapped collar of his shirt and Kylo allows himself to be led into the darkness of Hux’s room. Experimentally, Hux spins them around and shoves Kylo against the wall harder than he would normally have deemed necessary.

Kylo makes this little _hm_ sound that Hux chooses to interpret as encouragement. His eyelids fall to half-mast and he goes loose and unresisting under Hux’s hands. It’s true Hux had been planning to go to bed, but he’s never felt more awake.

Kylo is a rush, addictive as spice. Hux is a little worried about that, how this thing is spiraling out of his control. But Kylo requires all of his focus, so this warning, too, goes off unheard.

“What do you want?” Hux says. He plants both hands on either side of Kylo’s head, feeling a surge of anticipatory pleasure in his pelvis. He can guess. He wants Kylo to say it, though, to admit Hux has one up on him in this and that it’s the great Master-Knight who’s asking for it. The thought alone makes his blood pound.

There’s a beat where Hux can see Kylo warring with something in his mind, that shadow passing over his eyes that makes him go blank in a way Hux doesn’t really like. Even this close, Hux can’t figure out what’s going on in that pretty head.

It disturbs him and goes on longer than it should tonight. Purely out of instinct, he puts his hand on Kylo’s throat. He just rests it there, with no explanation for why he’s apparently got a death wish. But it gets the result he wants and Kylo snaps back into the present. Something like that almost always does it, a threat, however minimal, and Kylo is right back where he needs to be.

“Answer me,” Hux says. “What do you -”

“You,” Kylo says, which is sort of shocking and makes Hux lose his train of thought. It’s an almost absurdly innocent response and yet it feels true. Kylo hasn’t lied to him so far and Hux isn’t sure he possesses enough social aptitude to do it convincingly.

Without any more warning than that, Kylo drops to his knees. Somehow he makes it graceful, his dark, glossy head bowed. Like he’s at prayer. Hux wonders with some panic if this is how he looked when doing one of those Force “meditations” that Snoke used to subject him to. For an activity that’s supposed to calm you, it made Kylo alarmingly shaky and paranoid.

Kylo starts to reach for Hux’s waistband and Hux takes a half-step back, says, “Take off your clothes,” relieved when his voice comes out steady to his own ears. “All of them,” he adds. He might have sounded a bit too excited there, spares a thought that he’s giving more than is safe to this. Coming to expect it. But then Kylo’s doing what he told him to and Hux is finding it hard to see the bad side to all this.

In a fluid motion Kylo somehow gets the trappings of his shirt off. His pants are more difficult because his lightsaber is strapped to his belt. Hux doesn’t know what he’s supposed to think about that. He has never seen Kylo without it.

Kylo folds his clothes with the kind of military precision Hux would normally approve of, but now he can’t help thinking it’s just precious seconds lost where Kylo’s hands could be better occupied. But he can’t complain when there’s miles of pale skin and muscles on display. Kylo has a lot more scars than he’d have guessed. They crisscross up and down his shoulders and back, a few along his taut stomach.

Every time Hux sees them he starts running through what blade can possibly have made them, and comes up at a loss. They’re just in the wrong places for all the ones that would fit. It’s bothering him.

The one on Kylo’s face disappears into the collars of his shirts, and so Hux hadn’t realized until he’d seen Kylo undressed the first time that it extended so far down, or so dangerously close to his jugular. Even now, knowing it's there, he’s torn between anger - at Kylo, at the girl he let do that to him - and this building heat inside of him that simply wants to plant its own claim on Kylo in any way he can.

The ritual with his clothing completed, Kylo looks back up at him expectantly, and Hux lets Kylo draw him in and slip his pajamas past his hips. He’s already hard, has been that way since the first compliance of Kylo’s body against his. Which is good, because Kylo hasn’t really learned to appreciate foreplay yet - in fact acts like he half-hates all the touching - and seems to think Hux must feel the same way. His hand ghosts over Hux’s cock, diffident and not very sure.

Hux keeps wanting to ask why, why is it like this, why does Kylo let him do what he wants, whatever he wants. Why can’t he answer the question. It’s not the first time he’s tried to get Kylo to tell him something that _he_ might like. But Hux only gets those one-off answers after it’s all done.

At the first sensation of Kylo’s mouth on him, Hux’s hands find their purchase Kylo’s hair and weave through the silk, pulling tight enough to hurt but not to damage. He uses it to set the pace as Kylo’s head moves back and forth, his hips jerking with the effort not to just ram his cock down Kylo’s throat. His thigh muscles strain with the effort, a low familiar pressure beginning at the base of his spine.

It’s going to be over all too soon, though, and he yanks Kylo off of him with a wet gasp. “Not yet, not yet, I don’t want to come yet,” he pants. “Damn, you’re good at that,” he says in surprise. Makes him wonder… He stares at Kylo who just wipes his mouth and sits back on his heels.

For a second he thinks Kylo is insulted, but then Kylo shrugs and says cryptically, “I’ve done it before.”

Which - shouldn’t make Hux as angry as it does. His own rage surprises him. A red blot passes over his vision. A rising tide. _Who,_ he thinks. _Who exactly -_

He had assumed. Since the beginning, he had simply assumed Kylo was utterly virginal before this. Them. Cannot have imagined him with another. And nothing since that first impression had made Hux change his view. Until now.

Something of it must show on his face because Kylo has that confused frown he gets when he’s said something truly appalling and doesn’t understand why his audience is so shocked. “It was a long time ago,” he says.

That doesn’t help. At all.

Hux’s fingers are still in Kylo’s hair and he twists them tighter, satisfied at the brief flicker of pain in Kylo’s eyes before Hux jerks him to his feet. Kylo goes easily, at risk of having his hair ripped out of his scalp. Hux wouldn’t - he couldn’t. The threat is enough. He likes too much the feel of Kylo’s hair in his hands, the satisfyingly mussed nature of it that’s such a perfect expression of Kylo himself. Wild, untamed. But Kylo doesn’t need to know that.

“Get on the bed,” Hux says, releasing him only to shove him backwards.

Kylo is about the last person on the ship who can be pushed off balance. But he lets Hux do it, stumbles back until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping it. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. He watches Hux like he’s taking cues about what to do next or how to feel about it.

That’s _exactly_ what Kylo is doing, Hux realizes with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He glances down between Kylo’s legs, just to make sure. Relieved to find him hard, too.

Yes, good, he thinks wildly. This isn’t some kind of… he isn’t a -

He tries to think back to when all this started. It was Kylo who came to him first. Hux had known, before it ever happened, that it would happen like that. It would have to. No matter who Kylo chooses.

Kylo runs his tongue over his lips, pulls the bottom one between his teeth. He lifts his hand, an offering. “You’re thinking too much,” he says. “I’ll make you - I can make it good. Really good. Just come here.”

“It’s always good,” Hux says automatically, not seeing any benefit to acting like it isn’t. As if mesmerized, he approaches Kylo, pushes his hand down, pushes against his chest, and Kylo lays back.

“I mean I can make it _really_ good.” Kylo points at his head. “In here.” He lets his hand fall back to the bed, fingers expanding wide as he says, “Everywhere you’ll feel it.”

Hux slides one knee on the bed, his hands bracing on either side of Kylo’s head again like they had on the wall. He likes this position because it boxes the other man in, he can observe every passing motion of his face.

“I don’t want you in my head,” Hux says, appalled.

“Orgasms happen in the brain,” Kylo says, unsmiling. “I’m already there.”

It’s… intriguing. Hux would be lying if he said he wasn’t _curious_. But there’s no way. No way. He’s surprised Kylo even bothered suggesting it.

Hux shakes his head. “It’s hardly fair,” he says. “It’s not like I can see what’s going on in _your_ mind.”

“You wouldn’t want to.”

Hux is quite sure of the truth in that. Kylo is rarely so talkative during these times. Or any time, for that matter. Something is off about him tonight, an edge that’s brittle enough to break.

“You can just _tell_ me, you know,” Hux points out.

The little confused frown again. “Tell you what?”

“What you’re thinking. What you want. Despite what you might believe,” Hux huffs, “I am fairly liberal in these matters and I doubt I would be shocked by anything you told me.”

That might be shooting himself in the foot, but it’s bound to goad Kylo into trying to prove him wrong, and thus forcing him to answer.

“I’m fine with whatever,” Kylo says, which sounds a lot more worldly than Hux finds him to be in this arena. Then, out of nowhere: “Do you still think about hitting me?”

Hux splutters. “I never - I told you not to get into my -”

“I’m not,” Kylo says in that annoying matter-of-fact tone Force psychics like to use on the uninitiated. It’s the only time he ever bears any resemblance to Snoke.

“I just can tell, because of how we are. Or were.”

“Yes, well,” Hux says, still suspicious. “Do _you_ still think about me hitting you?”

He means the question to be flippant, to get them off this topic. But the whole world comes to a standstill when Kylo says, “Yeah.” Like it’s nothing.

Hux can only take so many shocks in a night. He’s not a teenager on his first tour anymore. “You - what?” he says intelligently.

His scrutiny starts to crack the veneer of Kylo’s defenses and Kylo drops his eyes, looks down the length of their bodies. He licks his lips again and Hux catalogs it, every nervous flutter of his lashes as they lift back up to meet Hux’s gaze.

“I just think about it. Your hands... You asked me,” Kylo says, almost backtracking. “You don’t - I wasn’t asking -”

“I didn’t say no,” Hux hears himself saying. “I am just surprised.” _Are you really,_ the cynical part of him jibes. _Really._

Hux runs a hand over his face, thoughts taking flight before he can catch one and examine it. “Yes all right,” he says, more to focus than because it makes sense. “All right.” He glances down at Kylo between his fingers. He does look like he belongs under Hux, all stretched out and pliant, like a gift. He can do anything Hux wants, seems to want to do it. Or let him do it. Hux can probably just slip his cock right back into those poutish lips and forget all about these troublesome suggestions. Just tell Kylo to forget it and get back to what he’s good at.

The thought kind of depresses him. _Which one of us is like Snoke, now?_ Kylo Ren is going to drive him crazy.

“I - I have to think about it,” Hux says. “Let me think about it.”

He doesn’t miss the cloud of disappointment that passes over Kylo’s eyes or the rather alarming rapidity with which he masks it. Hux blinks and it’s gone, his usual neutral expression back in place. Maybe Hux really is the one losing it.

“Okay,” Kylo says.

But it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Their easy accord has tilted off the tracks somewhere, just a fraction, less than an inch, but it’s enough for Hux to feel it and it’s no longer smooth. He tries for a while, tries to get into that space again where he doesn’t actually care what’s going on in Kylo’s head as long as he’s doing something interesting with his hands or mouth. But he can’t. Kylo did what Hux wanted him to do and answered the question, that strangely soft voice he has releasing something into the air he can’t take back.

Hux stays true to his word and thinks about it. And thinks about it. And that red blot in his mind grows bigger.


End file.
